


Enriched

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto asks Ignis for help in being Noctis’ omega.





	Enriched

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’ve had this idea suggested a few times... and gotta say, I dig it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

If he had the time, he’d leave the dishes in to soak. Prompto would like to think he’s got decent muscle tone, and not even in a ‘ _for an omega_ ’ sort of way; he’s actually worked out, and he’s fairly strong. But no matter how hard he scrubs the buttom of the silver skillet, the caked-on egg residue just won’t peel off. It doesn’t even look like it’s thinning. He fears he’s actually ruined the pan, and Ignis will never forgiven.

Worse, Noctis will see what Prompto knew all along: he’s a terrible omega that has no business living with the prince. He still can’t believe he was chosen for that role. Obviously, they made a huge mistake. Ignis was the one to first approach Prompto with the offer, and now he’ll be the first to see Prompto’s true colours. 

The skillet slips out of Prompto’s soapy grip and topples back into the sink. It disappears below the bubble-laden waterline. He fumbles for the handle and resumes furiously scrubbing, refusing to give up. He’s been here too long now. He loves Noctis too much to let go without a fight. 

Over the scraping noises of his own efforts, he hears the door open in the distance. He would know if it was his alpha coming home—he could pick up Noctis’ scent halfway across Insomnia. Knowing that it’s only Ignis isn’t much of a relief. Ignis is the perfect omega in every sense, and he’s known Noctis since they were children—his love and loyalty for his prince know no bounds. If he discovers Prompto’s failure, he’ll be sure to report it, though Prompto’s also fairly certain that Ignis has the authority to banish Prompto on his own. 

Ignis wanders into the living room, crisply dressed in tight pants and a purple button-up shirt, his black collar snug around his throat. He instantly spots Prompto in the kitchenette and dons a small smile of greeting. Prompto tries to smile back but probably just radiates nervous energy. 

Ignis maneuvers around the island and joins him at the sink, asking, “Oh, did you cook?”

There’s a charred pile of decimated ingredients in the trash bin that Ignis obviously hasn’t noticed. Prompto dully admits, “I... tried.”

“You needn’t have bothered. We should still have half an hour or so before Noctis finishes his training; I have plenty of time to prepare something.”

“But I was home,” Prompto mumbles. His grip on the handle wavers, scrub brush lowering into the water. “You were out doing important things, helping him run the country, and I’m his omega too and I just... dicked around...”

“Did you beat the fire boss in the second temple like Noctis asked?” Ignis casually inquires. Prompto weakly shakes his head. They’re still stuck on that stupid level. Ignis will probably be the one to actually un-stuck them: he’s as great at video games as he is at everything else. 

Prompto tries. He has fun. But he’s not _useful_ , and that needs to change.

Sucking in a deep breath, Prompto turns around. Ignis quirks one eyebrow above the thin rim of his glasses. This was going to be a last resort—Prompto didn’t want to admit to a man that’s technically his competition just how much of a failure he is. But it’s clear he has no choice anymore. He needs to do better. Besides, he and Ignis get along fairly well—he _likes_ Ignis. He thinks Ignis likes him too. And hopefully Ignis loves Noctis enough to make sure Prompto’s the best omega possible. 

“Iggy, I need to ask you for a favour...”

“Unless you’ve found a save point closer to the boss, I’m afraid I don’t have the time to traverse the entire temple again on the off-chance that I’ll discover some special technique the two of you missed.”

“What? No, I... I want you to teach me how to cook.”

Ignis pauses. Prompto does his best impression of a puppy dog in the hopes that it works on Ignis like it does on most alphas. 

Ignis merely counters, “Why the sudden interest? Now that you’re around to keep Noctis occupied, I can easily manage the household cooking.”

“Yeah, and I mean, I’m grateful for it—you’re great at it! But, like... I’m his omega too...” Prompto awkwardly shifts his weight onto the other foot. Ignis doesn’t seem to see what that has to do with anything. So Prompto has to spell it out. “I’m... well, I’m a pretty shit omega when it comes down to it. I suck at cooking and cleaning. I did try to tidy up a bit today, and I guess I just gotta pay more attention for that stuff, but cooking’s actually _hard_... and I really want to be better. For Noct.”

Ignis regards him levelly. Prompto appreciates that Ignis doesn’t immediately lie and tell him he’s fine when they both know he isn’t. But after a long moment, Ignis does tell him, “That’s unnecessary.”

“But I _want_ to be good...”

“You might be inefficient when it comes to domestic work, but that hardly makes you _bad_. Noctis likes you _because_ you’re unique: that your talents and interests lie elsewhere, as opposed to the stereotypical version of our kind. And while I appreciate the thought, I don’t actually require your help in that department.”

Prompto bites his bottom lip, working it as he studies Ignis’ face. Ignis doesn’t _look_ upset about doing everything. But he totally does do everything. Prompto tries, “Well... could you, um...” He can feel his cheeks heating but presses on, “Could you maybe train me in bed, then?”

Ignis is kind enough not to laugh in Prompto’s face. Instead, he answers seriously, “I don’t think you need it. Noct seems perfectly happy with you in that regard.”

“Yeah,” Prompto mumbles, blush getting worse. “But, like... I wanna be as good an omega as you are. And you’ve been his so much longer... you obviously know him super well, and... I don’t know, I’d just like to know how to please him _right_. I want to pleasure him just the way he wants.”

The small smile Ignis grows is almost pitying. Prompto feels vaguely pathetic but doesn’t withdraw the request. 

Ignis softly tells him, “You’re doing fine, Prompto. While I do know Noctis better than he knows himself, that doesn’t matter in bed. He doesn’t have specific preferences he wants repeated—you know as well as I do that he’s a dynamic lover. Sometimes he’ll just want to chastely cuddle on the couch, other times he’ll bend you over the counter and fuck you until your knees shake. You’ll know what he wants when he wants it, because he’s incapable of denying himself around us. At the end of the day, all he wants is to feel good and to make you feel good in return.”

Prompto knows it’s true. Since bonding with Noctis, they’ve done everything from slowly making love to brutally fucking like beasts. They’ve shared every position over every surface of the apartment. But it’s all been just as pleasurable for Prompto as it’s been for Noctis, and that’s not what he’s going for. He whines, “But there must be _something_.” 

Ignis sighs. It must finally be clear to him that Prompto’s not going to let this go without some plan of action: he’s absolutely determined to improve. 

Ignis gives in, deciding, “I suppose I can run through one of the more common scenarios with you. Come.”

Stepping back, Ignis nods towards the bedroom and heads off. Prompto lets the pot submerge and hope it soaks enough while they’re gone to become cleanable. 

Noctis’ bedroom is tidier than usual, and for once, not because of Ignis—Prompto went through it a few hours ago and took out the trash and put in the laundry. It’s still nowhere near as nice as it is after Ignis has cleaned it. Still, Ignis hums, “Good work,” as he walks through it, and that gives Prompto a sense of pride. 

They reach the bed, which is made but still rumpled. Ignis informs him, “Perhaps tuck the corners of the blankets in next time.” Prompto nods and takes the mental note. 

Ignis gestures at the mattress, ordering, “Lie down as though you’re Noctis, stubbornly sleeping in on a morning where you should be up and attending to your omegas.”

Prompto looks back at Ignis but doesn’t say anything. He was always told that omegas were the ones that were supposed to please alphas, but that’s not always how it works in their home. Secretly, Prompto knows that Noctis would obey Ignis implicitly if asked to. 

He doesn’t know if Noctis would obey _him_ , but he doesn’t want to go down that mental road. He’s trying to be good. 

He climbs onto the bed and wriggles down beneath the blankets, face nestled in the pillow. It smells like Noctis. He loves that. Ignis looks down at him thoughtfully. 

Then he starts. 

“As you know, our alpha is _lazy_.”

Prompto glances up. He wouldn’t have said that. But he also doesn’t deny it. Ignis reaches out a hand to gently stroke through Prompto’s hair and continues, “He chases dreams far more than he should. Often times, we must do more work to compensate.” One of Ignis’ knees hikes up onto the bed. Prompto’s eyes dart to it. “He is a prince, after all, and as much as he denies it, deep down, he enjoys being pampered. Especially by attractive men that wear his collar.” 

The second leg joins the first. Ignis kneels on the edge of the mattress but comes no closer, instead straightening out and reaching for his collar. He begins to pop the buttons of his shirt open one by one. 

Prompto’s never been attracted to another omega before. But it’s impossible _not_ to feel Ignis’ pull when he’s deliberately being sexy. He strips like an expert. He slowly pops the final button and opens his shirt, spreading it wide to show off the lean lines of his chest and stomach. Ignis is in excellent shape—it always looks like he trains as hard as Noctis does. Prompto appreciates the view. 

Ignis sheds the shirt and withdraws his belt in the same manner. Then he plucks off his glasses and sets them carefully on the nightstand, running a hand back through his hair to adjust his bangs afterwards. It makes him look all the more delectable. Finally, he opens his fly, but it doesn’t go any further. 

Instead, he descends on Prompto, lowering to brush a kiss over Prompto’s shoulder. Prompto shivers, and another wet, open kiss claims his neck, right above his collar. He can feel the dull scrape of Ignis’ teeth, and it makes his toes curl. Prompto idly wonders if he’s meant to be Noctis in this situation, and Ignis is demonstrating how to engage an alpha already ensconced in the sheets. 

Sure enough, Ignis diverts to Prompto’s ear, tongue trailing over the shell before he growls low, “In these times, we must be dedicated. Our affection must be exaggerated in order to get through to our tired prince.” One of Ignis’ fists grabs the blanket, and the covers are slowly dragged away as Ignis mouths at Prompto’s jaw. Prompto’s grateful to have them go—he’s getting overheated. Ignis is _so hot_. He drags the blanket right down to Prompto’s lap and smoothes long fingers over Prompto’s stomach, lightly scratching along his tender skin. Tone reverential, Ignis politely asks, “Might I remove your pants, Your Highness?”

Prompto has no idea what Noctis would do in this situation. But he nods, because he’ll do anything Ignis asks. He’s reward with Ignis’ sultry smile. The blanket continues its descent, until it’s been pushed away, and then Ignis is opening Prompto’s fly and scrunching his pants and underwear down his legs. When Prompto’s crotch is entirely exposed, Ignis’ hands come back up to scrape along Prompto’s thighs. 

Prompto gasps when Ignis’ talented fingers disappear between his legs, and one warm digit presses into his crack. Ignis’ fingertip flattens over his hole, lightly petting it as Ignis coos, “What a cute little asshole you have, love. Shall I spread it open for you?”

Prompto makes another note: praise Noctis’ gorgeous body. That shouldn’t be hard. Noctis is crazy hot. But Prompto’s never taken a long look at Noctis’ asshole, because he’s usually too busy fingering his own open and begging for Noctis’ cock to fill it up. 

Ignis arches down, pressing his crotch into Prompto’s leg. Nipping at his cheek, Ignis purrs low, “Can you feel how hard you make me, Noct?”

Prompto whines. His legs automatically part, spreading open as wide as they can. He’s not thinking about being Noctis anymore, learning from Ignis: he’s just thinking about how much he loves having sex with Noctis and how hot Ignis is too. He bucks up, and his hard cock slaps Ignis’ bare stomach. 

Ignis whispers, “Do you want me to pleasure you, alpha?”

Prompto nods. He doesn’t even know what Ignis is offering. He doesn’t care. He just _wants it_ , wants both his boys all over him—

“I’m not that easy, am I?” Noctis casually drawls from the doorway. Prompto scrambles up on his elbows, gaze darting over, but he can’t get off the bed—Ignis doesn’t climb off of him. Peering back, Ignis is smiling fondly.

Prompto’s drowning in embarrassment. And fear. He _thinks_ he’s allowed to play with Ignis, but it still feels like a betrayal to be caught with someone else when he’s wearing Noctis’ collar. 

Noctis doesn’t look the least bit upset. If anything, his eyes are dark in that way they get when he’s intensely turned on. When neither of his omegas says anything, he strolls into the bedroom, aiming for the wheeled chair at his desk. 

He sits down in it and rolls himself over to the side of the bed. Ignis informs him, “Prompto asked for me to train him.”

“Train him?”

“In the fine art of pleasing you.”

Grinning hungrily, Noctis bids, “Then by all means, keep going.”

Prompto’s madly in love. He keeps his legs spread as Ignis slots between them, coming in for their next kiss.


End file.
